In July of last year my wife, daughter and I moved from Brooklyn, New York to Paris, France for one year. Many of you may have visited foreign countries, and some of you have lived in them, and for all of you that haven’t I would recommend it. One thing that has happened to me, not intentionally, was that living abroad has made me more self analytical, especially in terms of my identity as an American, than I thought it would. The reason I didn’t expect this, is because I don’t tend to think of myself as an American. I like to be that now clichéd citizen of the world. Still, I am an American who lives in Brooklyn, and is from Akron Ohio. I am a scientist and musician, so it is not surprising that I would tie my identity to one of those ventures. What is surprising is how much American arts in general are a part of what defines me, and defines American influence in Europe. More specifically though as a white mid westerner, it is the African American experience that not only remains arguably the most important cultural importation in France, but also the one that I feel the most personally connected to. The continued resonance of African American art can be seen in a variety places from the lobby of the Pompidou Center, to the photos in every piano bar. Popular music in my mind is impossible to credit to anything other than black spiritual, blues, jazz and r and b. In the visual arts the argument can also be made that post pop art has African American influences, especially in an Obama age, where artistic commentary must be seen through an African American lens. There is also a raised bar for athletic strength and beauty, which is African American in the ideal. It is associated with power, struggle and success. So this must mean that African American Art in Europe is flourishing. Unfortunately I don’t get the sense that it is. Instead these creations have been hijacked by European whites, much as they have been in the United States. Hijacking is a much too strong way of saying it, as there doesn’t seem to be such a malicious intention. Instead, contemporary European art, including music in 2010 seems to be similar to what Elvis was to the Blues in the 1960s. It is completely influenced by African Americans, but removed from it, so that it becomes only a commentary on it.
Here is where my personal experience comes in. I am one of these hijackers. I play jazz music. I buy Najee Dorsey art, and Mayweather is my favorite boxer. I feel somehow justified in this, as I am a scientist, and realize that there is virtually no biological distinction in race. That said there remains a cultural one. Europeans, and us white Americans, remain one step away from the source, meaning that the art that we create, and the art that sells in Europe is not African American, but rather a politely packaged minstrel show of paintings, sculptures and concerts. The problem is not that whites are creating black style works, but that it is not acknowledged as such, especially in the visual arts. In jazz this is not exactly the case. Paris has always embraced musicians from Ellington to Miles. They even had an exhibition on and of Miles Davis recently. The thing that you will notice though is that Ellington and Miles are of another era. The challenge will be the recognition and respect of the artists of our time.
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